


Grief

by Polomonkey



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Chatting & Messaging, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Minor Character Death, Online Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:31:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6126080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polomonkey/pseuds/Polomonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur has a breakdown after his friend Leon dies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grief

**Author's Note:**

> Most of you will know that the very talented artist texasfandoodler died recently. She was a wonderful artist but more importantly a wonderful human being.
> 
> I don't know if a fic is an appropriate response to the pain of her death but it's all I have so forgive me. We will all miss her very much.

_From: merlin_em@gmail.com_  
_To: kingartie@hotmail.co.uk_  
_Subject: Long time no speak_

_Hey Arthur! Haven’t seen you on chat much recently! Get back on, we miss you ;)_

 

The end of the ten ‘o’ clock news is Uther’s cue to go to bed. Arthur remembers his father staying up late when he was young; there was always one last piece of work to do, one last phone call to make. Nowadays Uther’s eyelids start to droop by nine in the evening and sometimes he’s asleep before the news has ended. He’ll blink his eyes open as the closing music plays; confusion clouding his features, sleepy and lost.

Arthur has learned a lot of things about his father since he moved back home three months ago. 

He supposes his father has learned a lot about him too. The way he lies completely still on the couch for hours at a time. The way he pads softly around the house at night, opening cupboards and drawers, as if an answer might be hidden in them. The way he cries when he chops vegetables, when he makes tea, when he ties his shoelaces; suddenly and without warning, his chest tight and his hands shaking. 

Age has gentled Uther. He is not the distant father Arthur remembers from his childhood. But he seems helpless in the face of Arthur’s breakdown. Uther likes solutions and there are none here.

He tries though, he tries very hard. He leaves lunch for Arthur in the fridge and texts at midday to make sure he’s eating it. He cooks diligently in the evenings, and lets Arthur have it on his lap in the living room. He makes appointments for Arthur at the GP, leaves his pills out in the morning, drives him to the therapist once a week.

And if he sometimes stares at Arthur across the table, his eyes heavy and sad, his mouth half-open with words he cannot summon – Arthur doesn’t mind. 

 

_From: merlin_em@gmail.com_  
_To: kingartie@hotmail.co.uk_  
_Subject: Where are you??_

_If this was the army you would be AWOL, and tbh sometimes I wish our chat was the army so I could lay down the law a bit._

_On second thoughts, no-one would let me be in charge would they? Huh._

_ANYWAY what’s up? Everything going ok? You need to get back in here cos you’re missing out on things. Gwen finally went on a date with that flour guy (and she wants us to stop calling him flour guy now but lol, no) and it went well. Mord had a job interview at some fancy tech company but he thinks he ballsed it up. I am my usual self, spreading rainbows and sunshine wherever I go, even in the face of mean customers yelling at me on the phone. I have funny stories to tell you, but only if you come back into chat (yes this is blackmail and I hope it works…)_

 

Arthur keeps having the same dream.

He’s sat with Leon in a restaurant and they’re waiting for someone to take their order. He’s getting agitated but Leon keeps telling him to calm down. So he goes off to find the bathroom but there isn’t one and he ends up in the street. He walks round and round the houses and he can’t find one and it’s getting dark. Eventually he finds his way back to the restaurant but Leon’s gone.

He flags a waiter down and says, _Where’s Leon?_

And the waiter says, _I’m so sorry sir, but I’m afraid your friend had to die._

This is the point that Arthur wakes up.

 

_From: merlin_em@gmail.com_  
_To: kingartie@hotmail.co.uk_  
_Subject: For your bad joke collection_

_Heard this at work today and thought of you:_

_Did you hear about the magic tractor? It went down the lane and turned into a field._

 

Leon’s grave is in London and Arthur doesn’t live there anymore. Leon was in London and Arthur doesn’t live there anymore. It makes the whole thing feel unreal. He didn’t see Leon every day, only the time when he had enough energy to travel all the way from Queen’s Park to Leyton (and God he regrets how little he did that now). So he can’t help but feel that Leon’s still alive out there, somehow, and Arthur just hasn’t run into him yet. 

Even the funeral didn’t convince him. That could have been anyone’s body they lowered into the ground. What are the chances it was Leon’s, who was twenty seven years old and played cricket at the weekends and had a girlfriend of three years and a fat French bulldog? People like that don’t just die.

He knows it’s true most of the time, but he forgets occasionally. Once Uther refers to Leon in the past tense and Arthur goes mad, smashing the dinner plates on the floor, shouting and raving, screaming in his father’s face.

Uther wraps his arms around him and holds him very tight until Arthur subsides. Then he makes him sit down with some tea and cleans up the mess himself, stooping to pinch broken shards of glass between age-worn fingers. 

Arthur hasn’t gotten angry like that since then. He’s just been wrung out, like a used dishcloth, an empty shell. A broken clock with the pieces rattling around inside.

 

_From: merlin_em@gmail.com_  
_To: kingartie@hotmail.co.uk_  
_Subject: Getting a bit worried now_

_I don’t mean to spam you! It’s just that it’s been nearly four months now since I’ve heard from you. You don’t have to come back into chat, but could you just drop me a line to let me know you’re alright? A word, even? And then I won’t bother you again, I swear._

 

One day Uther asks Arthur to come to the supermarket with him.

It’s a Saturday and it’s bright outside. Uther always does the weekly shop on a Saturday. He’s never asked Arthur to come before.

Arthur hasn’t been outside in eleven days.

He says yes and Uther looks surprised, and pleased.

It’s busy in Waitrose and Uther sends Arthur to get the lentils, then the grapes, then the teabags. Arthur deposits them one by one into the trolley, slow and solemn. He can do this at least, even if he can’t do anything else.

The girl on checkout is very young and very smiley. She beams at Uther and Arthur as they unload onto the belt.

“Ooh I love these,” she says, tapping the lemon slices as she scans them. “I could eat a whole pack, all by myself.”

Uther smiles, a little tight-lipped. Small talk doesn’t come easily to him but Arthur’s noticed nowadays that his father seems a little more patient with those around him. 

He wonders if that’s because of him. Uther had always thought he was so happy in London. The shock on his father’s face when he showed up on the doorstep that night – soaked to the skin and weeping hysterically – has left an imprint somehow. Uther seems to have realised that outside appearances don’t say much at all.

The girl doesn’t seem perturbed by the lack of response, winking at Arthur as he digs the carrier bags out of his pocket.

“Nice of you to take your old man shopping. My dad won’t come with me, he says I’m a liability when there’s special offers on!” 

For a brief second Arthur hates her, for being so bright and cheerful when there’s no reason to be, absolutely none.

Then he loves her for a second too, because she’s proof that life just carries on.

 

_From: merlin_em@gmail.com_  
_To: kingartie@hotmail.co.uk_  
_Subject: (none)_

_Arthur please say something. I’m scared something bad’s happened to you._

 

Arthur lasted three weeks at work after Leon died.

They were a good company and he can’t fault them on anything. They knew about his depression and they’d always been supportive. He’d managed it well for nearly a year, seeing a counsellor on Saturdays, talking it out with his manager on the days he felt overwhelmed.

But there was nothing they could do when he started crying at his desk, when he couldn’t even answer the phone without choking, when his emails became an unreadable mess – run on sentences and disconnected thoughts all jumbled together in a blur of words.

He took the decision to resign and they were sorry to see him go. His manager said he could always reapply in the future but Arthur knows that he won’t. That office will always be the place he got the call that Leon had been in an accident, and he can’t think about it any other way now.

 

_From: merlin_em@gmail.com_  
_To: kingartie@hotmail.co.uk_  
_Subject: (none)_

_Arthur? Is all this because I asked if we could meet up? I didn’t mean to pressure you, I’m happy just talking on chat. Please just forget I ever asked._

 

Arthur’s birthday is a quiet affair. He spends the day looking at Leon’s Facebook, scrolling through his pictures until they all merge into one smiling blur.

Uther gives him a bike as a present.

“In case you want to go out while I’m at work,” he says uncomfortably. Arthur hasn’t driven a car since Leon died in one. The buses around here aren’t very good; a bike would help him get to the town centre.

Arthur hasn’t seen the point of going to the town centre yet but that might change. It’s nearly summer and these past few days Arthur’s been thinking about going outside. He’s been lying on the couch for a long time now.

The bike is light blue and just the right size for him. Arthur imagines Uther in the trendy cycle shop down the road, peering at the designs, asking the shop assistant what kind of bike a young man would like.

He’s suddenly choked with love for his father and the way he’s tried so hard to understand a sickness that is fundamentally unfathomable, even to Arthur himself.

“Thank you,” he mumbles. Then: “Sorry I’m a failure.”

“You are not a failure,” Uther says, so fiercely it shocks Arthur. “You are my son and you are ill and I love you no less for that.” 

Arthur feels tears pricking the back of his eyes and he stares down at the ground. 

“I don’t know what to do without Leon,” he says shakily.

“When your mother died,” Uther starts, and then falters. “When your mother-”

Arthur looks up and his father is crying. He takes two steps forward and pulls Arthur into an embrace. 

“It will get easier,” he says into Arthur’s hair. “I promise. And I’ll be here. I’ll always be here for you, Arthur.”

His father’s thinner than he used to be, and his grip isn’t as strong. But Arthur clings on anyway. 

 

_From: merlin_em@gmail.com_  
_To: kingartie@hotmail.co.uk_  
_Subject: Please come back_

_LJ says it’s your birthday. Happy birthday! I hope you’re having a good one wherever you are._

_I miss you a lot._

 

Arthur reads the latest email several times.

When he first became depressed, five years ago now, one of the hardest things was having no-one to talk to late at night when he was alone. But one day he’d stumbled across a chat room on the internet and hesitantly said hello. 

The people he’s met there have become some of the closest friends he has. He can’t explain it to his father, who wouldn’t understand that people he’d never met in real life could mean so much to him.

Merlin, especially. They’ve been chatting for so long it feels like he knows Merlin better than anyone else in the world.

They were supposed to meet up. They’d been planning it for a while. Merlin was going to show Arthur round his home town in Wales, take him to the local pub quiz he always made fun of on chat, introduce him to his mother. But then he got the call about Leon and after that he couldn’t go on the chat again. He didn’t have the words to say how he felt or the energy to try.

It’s been seven months since Leon died. Arthur isn’t well, or anywhere close to it, but he’s better than he was. 

It’s time to try again.

 

_From: kingartie@hotmail.co.uk_  
_To: merlin_em@gmail.com_  
_Subject: Re: Please come back_

_Hi Merlin,_

_I owe you an apology. I didn’t mean to worry you and I didn’t mean to stay away for so long. It was nothing you did or said and I’m sorry I made you think that._

_What happened was, my friend died. My friend Leon died and I didn’t know how to cope. I had a breakdown and had to leave London to move back in with my dad. I couldn’t make any sense of him dying and I couldn’t see the point in anything else. It felt like this hole had opened up in my life and there was nothing I could do to fill it._

_I still can’t fill it and I don’t think I ever will, but I’m trying to be okay with that._

_I want to come and see you in Swansea if the offer still stands? I’d really like to meet you face to face. And I’d like to tell you all about my friend Leon, because you never knew him._

_A x_

 

Three minutes later a chat window pops up in the corner of the screen.

_I’d love to hear about him._

And Arthur begins to type.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. You can see Tex's art [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/texasfandoodler) on AO3 and [here](http://texasfandoodler.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


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